


Return From The Ghost

by Val_Creative



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adults, BAMF Women, Canon Universe, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Introspection, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Past Violence, Pietro Maximoff Dies, Pietro Maximoff Feels, Protective Steve Rogers, Psychological Trauma, Separation Anxiety, Sexual Content, Timeline What Timeline, Twincest, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, War, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-07-29 05:11:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20076691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Being an Avenger means facing the truth. Wanda cannot live without her brother, but she has to.





	Return From The Ghost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VampirePaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/gifts).

> Thank you mods of the **Every Woman 2019** fest for letting me participate! And I really hope my giftee likes this!

*

When she looked at Pietro, there was a sensation like flower-blooms growing inside Wanda's rib-cage.

Cottongrass, violets, thistle and snowdrops and wild orchids. Twisting and thriving between slots of bone, and she felt it, felt it within her muscle and brain and blood. All of that love… residing and burrowing in Wanda's lungs, expelling from her mouth and into Pietro's air.

Everything died in Sokovia.

Their freedom against an oppressive government regime, their parents, and even the layer of soft, deep green grass beneath Wanda's feet right before bombs land. Their morals while joining HYDRA and then Ultron.

_ Pietro. _

She remembers bathing in the lake, right before Wanda gained her psionic abilities and her brother could run faster than a speeding bullet, having pulled off all of her things and dipping her head in. Glittering, pale blue water. Clear enough to see the bottom of the pebble-studded ground.

Pietro said nothing, about the clotted blood on Wanda's face, about her exposed, pale skin or the smell of newly burning flesh off in the distance.

Wanda dragged her moist hands over her eyelids, protesting lightly in their mother language when her twin jumped in, fully clothed, holding her and pressing his lips to Wanda's temple and earlobe. She remembers when Pietro's hair had been as dark as hers, his words slow and purposeful. His terrible asthma attacks. Pietro nearly died from inhaling what remained of their childhood home, experiencing a panic attack and howling and writhing.

She remembers.

Being an Avenger means facing the truth. Wanda cannot live without her brother, but she has to.

There's no more flowers in Wanda's chest. Just a tangle of dark, slimy vines. Festering and pricking her. Suffocating her. Like one of Pietro's asthma attacks. All the pain does is takes, and takes, and takes every bit of her and devours it into ruination.

"You doing okay?"

A hand gently rests to Wanda's shoulder.

Steve Rogers — her leader, her friend — eyes her, frowning in contemplation as she rolls over, staring back expressionlessly.

"No," Wanda admits quietly, the long, dark brown strands of her hair hovering to her mouth. The air conditioner humming on. He's fully dressed while she's not. Wanda doesn't bother covering herself, the satiny, grey sheets falling down her back. She sits up with the help of her elbows, hanging her head and grateful for Steve not mentioning her exposed, pale skin. "No."

Lagos, Nigeria would rather see her dead than punished. And she doesn't blame them.

She remembers why.

Wanda closes her eyes tinging scarlet, like dried blood, like Pietro's flowers might have been, and groans high-pitched as Steve's fingers carefully brush her hair out of her face.

She dares to kiss this man, to press herself against him and share in this ruination and defeat, and take, _take_ all she can from Steve, feeling his cock hardening and nudging between Wanda's thighs.

He'll never be the missing piece of her, filling Wanda with heat and comfort and longing.

_ Don't remember why. _

*


End file.
